Sydney's Song (20 page)

“Good on you Pete,” Mum told him. “Now make her wear these girlie things.” And she opened a few bags herself. Clothes. Shoes.Perfumes. She liked to nag at me all the time to wear dresses.Perhaps the very reason I rejected them. Just to be contrary.

I held a five-inch high Manolo Blahniks, one of several, throwing Pete a horrified look. “You aren't going to make me wear these, are you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. Non committal.

“He probably wants to see you in one of these,” Ettoré picked a little dress from the top of the pile, throwing Pete a conspiratorial look.

“Enough.” I swatted his hand away. “You guys please watch TV.The Australian Open is on.”

I scooped the bags and carried them upstairs. Mum followed with more. With my toes I slid the middle door of my wardrobe to the side and dumped everything at the bottom. I closed the door. There.

“Honey, don't do that,” Mum protested. “You're so childish.”

“I'll wear them one day. Promise.” When I would be more than skin and bones.

But Mum made me hang everything neatly. She kicked her shoes off and sat on my bed explaining where she found the dresses and who created them. Having the same build, she knew exactly what size to buy me.

“Have you discussed sex with Pete?” she asked. “You're reaching your majority next week. Legally adult.”

“
Mum
,” I protested, “Did you discuss your sex life with your parents? And here the legal age for having sex is 16. Not 18.”

“But you haven't. Going all the way, that is. I can tell from the tension between you two.”

“What tension?”

“The charged air. There. I can tell from your blush too.”

“
Mum
… Let's go down and annoy the boys. I want some dessert.And Pete's bought a wicked coffee.”

“But why haven't you given in to Pete?” She put her feet back into her shoes.

“Frankly, there's no need for now. We're so happy the way we are.Besides, too much is happening. Uni is about to start. He's going back to the States shortly before returning to live here permanently. I don't know. This isn't a great time to rush into things.”

A strain of the sweetest Brahms violin drifted up to my window at sunrise on my birthday. I opened my eyes, heart thrumming. The most enchanting sound of love was in the air, pulling at the strings of my heart, tugging at my soul.

Pete—my Pete!

I threw open the drapes. Pete was playing under my window, in the misty-grey day with a promise of rain. His eyes grew vibrant with love and elation when he saw me. I blew him a kiss. Totally besotted, we must have looked stupidly like the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet. Except that it was not stupid music that was flowing. A world-class violinist lovingly delivered a touching sonata from a great master composer.

At the end I leapt downstairs, opened the door, and we flew into each other's arms. He swung me around and we hugged each other tightly, hearts and minds overflowing with joy.

“I love you Sydney, I'll love you until I die.”

I was so touched when he gave me his violin CDs and a tape of him beautifully whistling a perfect Dvorak melody for my birthday presents. All this, when he had kept his violin background a secret from others. I sensed he must have gone to hell and back to leave everything he used to be. I started to learn that until you spend your time with someone every day you do not get to know the real person.And the more I knew Pete, the more I was impressed.

“We'll stage your birthday lunch tomorrow at Fagan Park.Saturday.” He pulled me to the kitchen and started making breakfast.“I've told your mom and Kate tomorrow will be a good day ‘cause the forecast says sunshine and you're an outdoorsy girl. But actually I wanna monopolize your time today.” He winked.

“What birthday lunch? Who's coming?”

“Your mom phoned your school friends. And I phoned friends from the call centre. I've recruited Kate and Nina to help me cook.Anybody else you wanna come? We can give them a last-minute shout.”

“Call your relatives too,” I suggested. Lately we had been so busy spending time with each other that we had forgotten the rest of the world. “But I'm so glad we have today just for each other.”

We cooked ourselves a lavish breakfast.

“Those choux pastries look very cute. Let me try one, Pete. To make sure they aren't poisonous.”

“I've chosen the recipe for maximum damage. Tastes good?”

“I'm not convinced. Better pass me the whole plate to make sure.Thanks. Mmm… I've died and gone to heaven.”

“Wait, Sydney. Spare some space for the croissant. You're gonna love the savoury chicken filling.”

“We're acting like kids playing happily in the kitchen.” And Mum thought we should discuss sex? “Except that we produce really yummy food.”

“And kids don't kiss in the kitchen,” he licked lemon butter from one corner of my lips. “You're so delicious!”

We had been going surfing every day, but on this rainy day we roamed the museums instead. He shook his head when I wanted to walk from the Art Gallery to the Museum of Contemporary Arts.

“How can you think a grey, rainy day is beautiful?” But he gave in anyway. It was only drizzling rain.

“Feel it Pete.” I faced the sky. “Feel the rain on your face. I don't know. I just love the feeling. Do we really have to explain why we love something?”

“I guess not,” an indulgent smile, “But I can tell you a thousand things I love about you.”

“Cool,” I hugged his arm, smiling into his eyes. “Start telling me when I'm 64.”

“64?”

“Sure. What's new about a guy telling his girl how cool she is? If you really mean it, I want to hear all about it when I'm 64.”

He laughed out loud.

“Gosh, you really are a hard taskmaster. Now I'll just have to show you instead of telling you. Right?”

Mum and Ettoré picked me up for my birthday lunch at Hornsby's Fagan Park the next day. Ettoré's car had to crawl very slowly through the dangerously winding Galston gorge, but it was worth the trip. Kate, Nina, and Pete did not just throw stuff from the shop onto the barbecue. They planned everything meticulously. All the meats were superbly treated with excellent home-made marinade. The salads and the sides were culinary perfection.

“You three chefs should team up and open a restaurant,” I declared.“Seriously recommended.”

“Where's the grog, though,” Brenna looked at her orange juice with distaste. “It's Sydney's 18th!”

The others too turned expectant eyes at Ettoré who was in charge of the drinks, but he had always championed my choice.

“We all have to drive later,” he reasoned. “It's Galston gorge, people.”

“So can we test-drive your Maserati?” Kevin pounced. He was manning the barbie with Jack.

Ettoré looked around. Interested eyes looked back. He laughed, and gave in.

I had an eclectic mixture of birthday-wishers. Val, Winston, and several more friends were there. Lucy was away, but she rang and emailed. The backpacker kids had gone away and sent emails too.Angus and Lauren ran around with Kate's and Nina's kids. I raced them to the top of the climbing-frame. Mum looked up at us as we were laughing high up in the air. She shook her head and said something to Pete. He smiled at her and said something to appease her. She relaxed and laughed.

Later, Brenna eyed Pete and Nina chatting. Pete had some indelible memories of earlier adventures in Sumatra. Getting lost climbing Mount Kerinci. Terrific big-wave surfing in Mentawai. Exotic, delicious cuisine—rendang etcetera. So Sumatra was big for Pete and he liked to chat with Nina about it.

“What a catch,” Brenna observed. “Will you get mad if I try to steal him away?”

“Do your worst,” I grinned at my beautiful friend. Mum always said Brenna was the best-dressed of us all. But today she didn't have much on. “Come. You're in for a surprise about his background.”

As if oblivious to Brenna's charms, Pete only had eyes for me as we approached. He flashed me a loving smile while still mid-sentence to Nina (“That's it. Being prejudice isn't a nation's trait, but individual's…”) and tugged me to his side with a comforting arm around my waist. I knew then that he had noticed Brenna's appraising look. He was subtly showing me (and the world) that I was special. That he cared for me a great deal.

As bizarre as it may sound to others, we had this extraordinary connection. A
special
bond. Often we knew things about each other without having to spell it out. Pete was a very deep person and acutely aware of his surroundings. He possessed a small measure of psychic ability. Once he confessed to feeling jealous the first time he saw me with Ettoré, but quickly calmed down because he could
sense
me. (“Nobody could be interested in another guy when she was sending such strong
waves
my way”). Yet he dismissed his intuitiveness and never made much about it.

“Pete, Brenna is going to study music in Melbourne soon. Brenna, Pete studied at New England Conservatory.”

Brenna was so delighted to be introduced to a NEC graduate that she put flirting aside. They talked music. And Brenna made me promise to check my emails regularly.

“It's a great day. I don't feel any different being 18, but I'm happy.” I linked arms with Mum and Kate. After stuffing our face with lunch, we all went for a walk before having cake.

“You
look
happy,” Mum smiled.

I left them to walk with my friends, but kept waiting for Pete. In this sprawling park he stopped all the time, exploring, curiously checking out the plants and animals in the many international gardens of Fagan Park. As usual I loved seeing the world through his eyes.

“Sydney, I'm so amazed you can name all the plants.”

“Only the native plants.”

“The world's richer, living it with you.”

“And I was just thinking the world's richer seen through your eyes.You delight in every little shape, scent, hue, pattern… And sound.Now it's like I'm seeing them with renewed appreciation.”

“There's so much beauty here. Isn't there? This is a massive park.”

“Yes, when I was little we took my bike. We used to feed the ducks early in the morning. You know, when I was little I didn't eat the
bones
of my bread. That's how I called the crust. Dad froze them and we fed the ducks here on Sundays.”

“Do you still cycle? Wanna go cycling?”

That was why we borrowed Craig's and Bridget's bicycles the next day. We went cycling to the enchanting Akuna Bay. Where we ended up starving because it was in the middle of nowhere.

“Know how to catch one barehanded?” I asked Pete when we saw a school of fat fish in clear water. We were passing a picturesque barbecue area. “I'm so hungry.”

“Nope,” he laughed. “Keep going Sydney. Didn't you say the nursery restaurant back at Terrey Hills has the most sinful desserts?”

A few days later, he was making me a sandwich to take to my animation workshop. Now that he did not have to go to work, Pete only shaved every third day. No matter his style, he always looked good. I took a shot. He lifted his head in surprise. I took another one.He smiled. Another one. I just loved taking his photo. Pete never failed to look interesting.

“What are these?” I pointed to a stack of new, colourful lunch boxes. “Why so many?”

“To match the colour of whichever socks you're wearing,” he winked. “The food will taste better.”

I burst out laughing. Pete liked to tease me for my colourful socks.

“What is it today?” He bent to lift the hem of my summer jeans.“Ahh. Green…” And he put a sandwich in the green box, handing it to me with a grin.

I looked into his eyes, overwhelmed by this small gesture. Pete had the knack for making me feel good. He was romantic and honest about his feelings and desires. At a very deep emotional level, quietly but intensely he went about forming very strong bonds and attachments between us.

“I'm going to miss you,” my voice wobbled. “You do these little things that make me feel special. Why are you so wonderful?”

I had really looked forward to this animation-for-fun workshop. It was a hands-on digital compositing process using 3D animation, lighting techniques, and digital effects for beginners. But as I sat on the train I missed my guy terribly… He was still near me. He was building a cubby house for Angus in their backyard. I would see him again tonight. But how was I going to cope when he returned to the US next week?